This year, as usual, Thanksgiving started the holiday season. We have been downsized as one son is in the Navy and the other is in college. They couldn't make it home so my youngest son was elevated to the role of oldest and designated kiddie entertainer. He eagerly took on his role unil the little munchkins proved to multiply and be more than he thought.
To pay homage to my son's take on this year's latest holiday, here is his first blog:
Family. Isn't it great? Everybody bonds with one another. Strong relationships are made stronger, wouldn't do anything to harm them. You cherish every moment with them. The best time that you're together is on the holiays.
What other family holiday is as great as Thanksgiving Day! The many aromas mixing in the air with the first crispness of fall. No school for a few days, nice and quiet. A couple of your extended family come over to share their thanks. The children eat quickly to make sure not to miss any of the many specials on TV. The adults share meaningful conversations over sweet potato pie and the teenagers cocoon in the family room, chillin' and catchin' up with each other. This is the ideal, right?
On MY Thanksgiving, everybody's other fifth cousin's son and his kid comes over. There are kids running up and down the crickety old stairs, knocking crystal vases over and tipping silver food trays off the table. Their pilage seems unending, how can this be?
Me, being the designated teenager-in-charge, takes this personal. It is an assault on my "big man on campus" status. It is finally my year to move from the kiddie table! It is my responsibility to restore the peaceful equilibrium that is my house before the descending of the little creatures. I try my best, but the madness overpowers me.
I tried to escape for a moment by running to my room. I did a Heisman-trophy worthy turn and swiftly flew up the stairs to my room, my inner sanctum. I would escape the imminent death of the little hands and feet. I dashed to my room and carefully opened the door, I peaked my head in and couldn't believe my eyes! The little demons had run past me and were in my room! Not only that, but in the matter of nanoseconds, they destroyed every ounce of careful, teenage boy organization that was my cocoon!
The little urchins went into the deep, inner crevaces of my closet and pulled out forgotten blankets, old toy boxes, and half-aware army men. The kids who were pretending to be more sophisiticated than their younger company, the 9 and 10 year olds, had opened my brand new video game! The box was disregarded, shrewn among the chaos of the floor. My house was nice and toasty, warm, wonderful smells everywhere, but I stood alone in that room, chilled. FROZEN!!!
I was astonished that such small children could create such a catastrophe, and all before the second dessert! Why didn't my older brother warn me about this?! I was burrowed deep in my mind, trying to think of a way to pry these malicious leeches out of my room's sanctuary. I turned around the wreckage and thought about this until it finally came to me! I had a, "by George, I think I've got it," moment. SWEETS! What do little kids cherish more than life itself!
"Ice cream downstairs!" I awaited their response. It was like one of those movie split seconds and then they recognized me. I watched their eyes become as big as saucers, even the pretend-sophisticated 10 year olds couldn't resist. They quicky scattered like mice on a midnight raid when the lights are turned on. The herd could be heard tumbling down the wooden stairs, one big blur of bounding legs and swinging arms.
"Whew," I sighed with relief as if a burden had been lifted...one had...until I turned around.
My relief at their departure was short lived as I surveyed the destruction of the kiddie tornado. I reassured myself that it could be rebuilt. This called for sugar, I closed the door and flew down the stairs,momentarily a kid myself.
There they all sat, sweet, like little angels. The invasion had ended and the little urchins were happily spooning vanilla ice cream into their sticky little mouths. I glared at them, the adults all "oohing and aahing" over how precious they all looked. I silently swore vengence, there would be another holiday, and I would be ready for them.
The night wore on and it was time for everyone to go. I hugged my ever-expanding, good natured family and even squeezed a few of the little demolision team, fifth cousin's son's kid included. I said my goodbyes and closed the door. Ah, quiet again. The harmony of the household was restored, I would be able to sleep late, then it hit me. There was only one problem to the promise of a peaceful night...the dishes!
"Hey mom, is the dishwasher working!"
Joshua is the writer's youngest son and designated teenager at home, this is his first blog.